


Balance

by Endee, girlsloveyaoi



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Edward was a good dad, Fluff, Happy Birthday Haytham, Haytham was a cute kid, Haytham/ Connor incest only, Haytham/Connor related only, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, No Spoilers, Rated teen for incest, Vindication related BUT easily read as a stand alone, it's sfw, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8748442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endee/pseuds/Endee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsloveyaoi/pseuds/girlsloveyaoi
Summary: In which the fondest of his birthdays would apparently occur on small motor boats and end in chocolate cake.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see! Happpy Birthday to a long time favorite Haytham Kenway, and hello to anyone reading this, old fan or maybe fated new. 
> 
> Lots of exciting things happening with Vindication, and this ficlet takes place in that universe, BUT guess what? No spoilers are contained and it can be read entirely as a stand alone, modern day AU, so don't let it stop you. 
> 
> Any mistakes are my own, I didn't wait for my dearest necrosisdemon to edit it. I was too excited. 
> 
> I had lots of fun writing, so I hope you enjoy reading. Cheers, and Happy Birthday to Haytham.

The fondest of his birthdays would apparently occur on small motor boats.

He can recall the very first, though, the name of the bay and his exact age escapes him. That day the sky was the deepest blue it could clutch to just before the sun woke. Water was deep, dark and void of chaos with the wee hours still lingering. He rubbed tingling hands some. Edward baited their hooks patiently.

“Doesn’t that hurt them?” Haytham questioned.

“What, the worms? Prob’ly. Which is why we wanna catch somethin’. End their suffering, eat what you catch, and use whatever you can, like guts f’ chum n’ the like, so no more lil buggers suffer.”

Haytham nodded, sternly, only to grin as his hair was ruffled under calloused hands.

“You’re a good lad, carin’ for lil grubs. That’s good, carin’ for things like that.” Haytham would remember that, at the best and worst of times. They sat back to back, Haytham covered in an old, red flannel blanket, puffs of breath thinning as the sun waved it’s colors about the sky. He remembered the little bobble poking up with the soft press of current, and his chipper excitement when it dunked for a bit.

They caught a few fish, some too small and freed for another day. Edward would gut the good catch later, perhaps teach Haytham how after they took him to the chocolate factory.

“It’s a good skill t’ have. Survival n’ all that. We’re sea people, datin’ all the ways back to the golden age a’ piracy.” Another ruffle of his dark hair, that would smell of a hint of fish and require washing. “Ya got pirate in ya, boy. We all do. Ya know what that means?”

“I’m more prone to rickets and scurvy?”

“Jaysus, you’re bleak! I mean, yeah, I /guess/, but you’re also best at adventures, n’ swashbucklin’ sword fights my lil lad. You got /pirate/ in ya. That’s special. Don’t forget that either, you’re a lil survivor. Ya fight with you’re all, that’s why you’re so good at stuff.”

Haytham excitedly beamed. “Really?’’

“Yeah! Look at you, catching’ fish and acin’ tests.Ya even got my eyes n’ nose. Dark hair and light eyes is real big right now, lots a’ contrast n’ shit. Oh, don’t say shit, alright? M’ point is, you’re gonna be a one of them Casanovas. Lil’ ladies man.” Edward wasn’t wrong, though unintentionally excluding a gender that would mark the beginning and ending work of his wee Casanova. But how was Edward to know the future undertakings of one so young?

Had he known what awaited the boy, his son’s sexuality would have been the last of his concerns, greeted with surprised curiosity and a pat on the back. The likes of which Haytham would never know, though dreamed of when the mood permitted. Ah, but past wonderment could not damper his reverie. He still recalled that day fondly, smell of the bay soothing as his father took him for a meal.

“Oi, we’re splitin’ this an’ don’t tell ya mom. She’ll have me bellend.”

“Bellend?”

“Oh fuck, don’ say that. It means cock head.”

Haytham blinked. Edward sighed, rubbing the back of his neck under the scrutiny of the shopkeepers gaze.

“Your peckers pointed tip, alright? Hint hint, ya pee from it, alright?”

“Oh! Heavens that’s…how would you even urinate properly?” Haytham saluted, seriously. “I shall not say a word, promise.”

Edward damn near snorted. “Good, now try this. Best chips you’ll ever have, haddocks got the skin still on-”

“I thought they were enjoyed with the skin off?”

Edward was appalled. “What blighted fuck told ya such trite shit?”

“…Mom.’’

“…Well, I love her to pieces, but she’s wrong, alright? Skin gives it better texture. Taste n’ tell.”

He was right, skin was better. And Haytham kept his promise, even as Tessa sniffed his hair and pointed to the grease on his chin.

“He fed you, didn’t he?”

“No, I am a prepubescent male and suffer from oily skin.”

Tessa’s neck tilted uncomfortably.“I can smell the bay on you.”

Haytham blinked. “I will use more deodorant, sorry I’m pungent.”

“Oh for…” She was caught between a laugh and irritation. “Stop protecting your father! I’m not cross.”

He had perfected the art of skepticism young, as did his arched brows. “You sound cross.”

“Haytham, kiddo, the jig is up f’ us.”

Haytham sighed, shrugging in Edwards direction. “Dad, I tried my best, but you laughing isn’t giving me much to work with. For heaven’s sake, have you forgotten about your…ya know…”

“Oh geeze, lad, you’re odd as all shite. I was jokin’.”

Haytham blinked. “I’m odd?”

Edward beamed. “Yeah, and it’s a lovable kind. Look at ya, lookin’ defeat in the facen’ drudging on.” He whispered loudly. “Your balls are bear sized.”

“Edward!”

“Sorry, yeah, not appropriate.” But he knelt, at Haytham’s eye level and winked. “That’s the pirate in ya. So, drink ya juice t’ prevent ya scurvy, and never let no one castrate ya lad, because you got moxie in spades.”

“Dad, I don’t know what that means.”

“No, but ya will. Ya gonna share moments like this with ya kids one day, and y’all know what I mean. Now go on, take a shower for ya mom, I’ll do th’ same. Maybe I can convince Jenny t’ get some cake too.”

He could recall Jenny and his mother, dolled up in pretty dresses. He could even remember the smell of chocolate cake, and his first drink of tea. If he tried hard enough, he could hear how they sounded as they sang ’happy birthday,’ and how it echoed in the closed shop not too far from home.

“Aye, dad. Daaaaad. Yoo hoo. Dad, dad, dad, dad, dad-”

“I can hear you, lad!” Haytham chastised gently, back pressed to Connors. Vermont was chilly, vermilion splashed leaves free falling about the lake, simple boat drifted idly as they sat back to back, bucket of already caught fish near full.

“You sure? I think you were drifting to sleep in your old age.”

“It’s always back to age with you, isn’t it? That is the only comment you cling too. I’ve so much stamina, strength, character, charisma-”

“- Ego too. Don’t forget ego.”

“- I can afford the ego, I am a bloody revolutionary. A regular pirate of my time.”

Connor snorted, interlacing fingers with his father’s. He abandoned them in favor of lifting a red flannel blanket, one Haytham insisted on buying, and draped it over his shoulders carefully. He resumed hold of his spare hand, blowing a bit of warm breath onto his fingers.

“Cold little pirate.”

“But fierce.” Haytham beamed. “I dare say, a Casanova of my time.”

“Dementia is a real bitch, huh?” Yet Connor’s lips touched his fingers, setting them aside as his bobble sunk. “I call it, last catch of the day.”

“I’m impressed, lad.”

“Yeah well…so, are you gonna show me how to fry like that place in London?”

“…I wasn’t, but I suppose I could. Yellow perch is as good fried as haddock, proper chips of course, and skin on.”

“Huh, I thought they take skin off to fry fish.”

Haytham stared, appalled. "That’s trite shit you bellend.”

Connor blinked. “…Bellend? Wait, did you just call me a cock head?’’

“Was that too forward? I am passionate about my fish. And tea. And the position of a toilet seat prior to my use.” Connor snorted and whispered warmly.

“You’re so weird.”

Haytham agreed. “I’ve been told that before.”

“It’s okay, I love you for it.” Connor whispered gently. “Has anybody ever told you that?”

Had Connor turned, he would have seen Haytham beam from ear to ear. Instead he was granted a gentle kiss to his own hand, words caressing warmer skin.

“Actually, in so many words, yes.”

He wasn’t expecting a cake to be waiting at their cabin, Connor proud of his timing and choice of card. Connor didn’t sing him a song. He didn’t have to. Haytham heard it time and time again, beaming at boisterous snap-chats and Instagram’s that echoed off the cabin walls as he helped himself to second slice of very rich chocolate cake.


End file.
